Podcasts about help spread

Pray that the Lord may bless our upcoming Parish Crab Feed fundraiser! --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

We can't ignore the proclamation of Jesus in today's Gospel passage – "the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” It reverberates with mighty significance. It calls us to awaken from our slumber, as though with the trumpet of an archangel, urging us to lift our eyes from the mundane of the world and behold the extraordinary. When Christ first uttered these words, He spoke to the hopes of a people longing for more (have you noticed, by the way, the human heart always wants more and yet nothing in the world can satisfy that hunger?). The Lord's words are a call to embrace not a realm of terrestrial grandeur, nor a kingdom of swords and spears, but one of spirit and truth. It was an invitation for all to enter into a new covenant, where God Himself would dwell among men in the flesh, making His abode in the hearts of those He loves. The historical biblical meaning of this proclamation lies not in geopolitical liberation, but in the liberation of souls. The Jews of Jesus' time anticipated the Messiah as a political liberator; yet, in His divine paradox, Christ offered them freedom of a higher order – deliverance from sin and death, the true tyrants of humanity. The kingdom of heaven is an already-but-not-yet consummation of the divine promise—a present reality through the Church, Christ's mystical Body, and a future hope to be fulfilled in its fullness at the end of the world.. Moreover, it is a call to recognize our true inheritance as sons and daughters of the Most High. In this divine family, we find not just a distant God, but a Father who desires our conversion and holiness. We are made co-heirs with Christ, inheritors of eternal life and divine grace. It is a truth both humbling and exhilarating, that we, frail creatures of earth, are invited to partake in the divine nature, to be transformed from dust to something more beautiful and everlasting. In this vein, we must ask ourselves: are we living as children of this kingdom? Are we bearers of the light, spreading the joy and truth of this proclamation to a world in dire need of hope? Let us then examine our own lives and strive to reflect the glory and justice of our heavenly inheritance. Each of us is called to be a sign of this kingdom made manifest, to live as though the very gates of heaven might swing open at any moment. And so, as we ponder this great mystery, allow the words of our Savior to challenge us: “Is your life aligned with this ultimate reality, the kingdom He declared?” --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

It's not by accident the most important words ever uttered by Jesus, "This is my body" is also the slogan of the pro-abortion side. It's a diabolical mockery of the Creator of life. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

** Correction: The only Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence was Charles Carroll, not John Carroll. Although there are cousins from the same prominent Catholic family in Maryland **In the earliest chapters of human history, when humanity first awakened to the vast chasm that sin had torn between itself and God, the Almighty—rich in wisdom and mercy—established a system of sacrifice. To modern sensibilities, such practices may seem foreign, even unsettling. Yet these sacrifices were never barbaric rituals devoid of meaning. They were sacred signs, visible declarations of an invisible reality: sin creates a debt, and reconciliation demands atonement.The Israelites, chosen to bear divine truth in a world shrouded in darkness, obeyed this command with reverence. Each unblemished lamb placed upon the altar, each offering consumed by sacred fire, testified to the weight of sin and the desperate human need to be restored to God. The Temple sacrifices were not empty motions; they were solemn reminders that sin costs something and that holiness requires blood.And yet, this system was never meant to stand forever. No ritual, no matter how meticulously observed, could cleanse the human heart. These sacrifices were shadows, holy signposts pointing forward to a far greater reality, a redemptive plan set in motion “before the foundation of the world” (Ephesians 1:4). As Scripture declares, “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Hebrews 10:4). The altar prepared the way, but it could not complete the work.Then, in the fullness of time, the answer arrived.Jesus Christ entered the story, not as another offering, but as the offering. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). In Him, the fragmented symbols of ancient worship are gathered and fulfilled. God Himself stepped into the brokenness of human existence. The eternal Word became flesh and dwelt among us, fully divine and fully human. On the cross, Christ carried the crushing weight of our guilt, spanning the infinite gulf that sin had carved between heaven and earth.The sacrifices of old were provisional, divine lessons training the hearts of God's people to recognize the magnitude of what was to come. In Jesus, sacrifice reaches its perfection. He is both High Priest and spotless Victim, offering Himself freely, not as a cold transaction, but as an act of unfathomable love. With His final breath, the Temple system met its completion, and the Savior's cry echoed through eternity: “It is finished” (John 19:30).Now, standing in the light of this finished work, we are confronted with a question that cannot be ignored. Do we grasp the depth of Christ's sacrifice? Have we allowed His love to transform us? Scripture calls us not merely to admire the cross, but to respond to it – offering our own lives as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God (Romans 12:1).In the Lamb of God, redemption is complete. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

At the Jordan River, something quietly thunderous occurs. The Son of God steps down from the glorious Heavens into the murky water not to be made clean, but to make the waters themselves a divine proclamation. He reveals the secret, robbed from humanity since the drama of the Book of Genesis, when the Serpent tricked our first parents to eat of the Forbidden Fruit. It is tempting to think of baptism merely as an elaborate cultural ritual, or even as an excuse to throw another party. No, it is so much more majestic than that. Baptism is the unveiling.Here stands Jesus, shoulder to shoulder with sinners, though He has no sin of His own to confess. In this act alone we learn something decisive about who He is. God does not reveal Himself here as a distant examiner of humanity, but as One who enters the queue, who wades into our muddied rivers and calls them holy by His presence. When the heavens open and the Father's voice declares delight in the Son, it is not a private compliment whispered for Jesus' ears alone. It is a public declaration of identity.“This is my beloved Son.” Before a sermon is preached, before a miracle is worked, before a cross is raised, the Son is named and loved. The order matters. Jesus does not earn the Father's pleasure; He receives it. And here is the astonishing turn of the Christian story: what is revealed in Him is not meant to stop with Him.For if Christ steps into the waters on our behalf, then we step out of them in His. Baptism, ours and His alike, is not chiefly about our decision for God, but God's declaration over us. In Christ, we are drawn into that same pronouncement of love. We do not become sons and daughters by striving, but by being joined to the Son.Thus the Jordan becomes a mirror. When we look upon Jesus baptized, we glimpse our own true identity—often obscured by fear, failure, or frantic self-invention. Beneath all these lies a deeper truth spoken from heaven itself: you are beloved. And once a man or woman truly hears that, the whole of life, like the river itself, begins to flow in a new direction. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Keep searching for God, never stop. Never cease. True happiness awaits those who endure. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Every human heart carries a hunger that no success, pleasure, or good work can ever fully satisfy. We chase after many things, hoping they will quiet that ache, yet they leave us restless still. This hunger is not a flaw in us; it is a clue placed there by God Himself. And when we come to Jesus Christ, we discover that He is not merely one answer among many, but the Answer our hearts have been seeking all along. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The Word becoming flesh is a direct response to the shame endured by our first parents in Genesis 3:10. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

With Mark Grenon and Jim Humble, she is one of the three innovators who were there at the start of the chlorine dioxide (CD) revolution fifteen years ago. I call them the OGs: the original gangsters.Support the show

Christmas has a peculiar way of catching us off guard. Even those who approach it with little religious intention often find themselves unexpectedly moved. There are the lights, of course, small defiances of darkness that seem to insist, stubbornly, on hope. There is the scent of evergreen, trees that refuse to play along with winter's story of decay. Our tables groan under the weight of food, and for a brief moment, in houses that are otherwise quite ordinary, we dine like kings in castles we only half-believe in. We laugh, we sing, and sometimes, rather inconveniently, we cry. For Christmas has the habit of stirring not only joy, but memory and memory is often tinged with loss.This curious emotional upheaval is not accidental. Christmas reminds us that we are creatures made for relationship, and therefore made for love. We may grumble about the season's commercialism, and not without reason. The tiresome pressure to find the “perfect gift” can make the whole affair feel suffocating. Yet even this complaint gives the game away. It reveals that we know, deep down, that shiny objects are poor substitutes for the thing we actually want. We sense that we are meant for something larger than consumption. We are not merely shoppers passing time in a well-lit store; we are beings made for communion.And this, I think, explains why Christmas persists in haunting us. If God is indeed our Maker, then it follows that He understands our design better than we do. We are not mass-produced articles stamped out by chance, but carefully imagined persons. Long before we learned our own names, we were known. Long before we could reach for love, we were made for it.One sees this truth most clearly, I suspect, at the end of life rather than at the height of it. When all the usual distractions are stripped away, the illusions lose their shine. No one, standing at death's door, laments the possessions left unpurchased or the luxuries never acquired. Such things suddenly reveal themselves as what they always were—props, not pillars. What remains is love: the people we have given ourselves to, the people we have failed, and the question of whether we have ever truly responded to the Love that stands behind them all.Here, then, is where Christianity makes its most audacious claim. It does not say merely that love matters, but that Love itself has entered the story. The Word by whom all things were made does not remain at a safe and reverent distance. He becomes a child. The Author steps onto the stage, not as a commanding hero, but as a helpless infant. The Light enters the darkness so quietly that it can be ignored and yet so decisively, that it cannot be extinguished.This is why Christmas continues to unsettle us. It suggests that the longing we feel, the ache that no gift can quite satisfy, is not a mistake. It is a signpost. The Word became flesh and lived among us, and in doing so, He dignified our hunger for love by answering it—not with an argument, but with Himself. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Christmas has a peculiar way of catching us off guard. Even those who approach it with little religious intention often find themselves unexpectedly moved. There are the lights, of course, small defiances of darkness that seem to insist, stubbornly, on hope. There is the scent of evergreen, trees that refuse to play along with winter's story of decay. Our tables groan under the weight of food, and for a brief moment, in houses that are otherwise quite ordinary, we dine like kings in castles we only half-believe in. We laugh, we sing, and sometimes, rather inconveniently, we cry. For Christmas has the habit of stirring not only joy, but memory and memory is often tinged with loss.This curious emotional upheaval is not accidental. Christmas reminds us that we are creatures made for relationship, and therefore made for love. We may grumble about the season's commercialism, and not without reason. The tiresome pressure to find the “perfect gift” can make the whole affair feel suffocating. Yet even this complaint gives the game away. It reveals that we know, deep down, that shiny objects are poor substitutes for the thing we actually want. We sense that we are meant for something larger than consumption. We are not merely shoppers passing time in a well-lit store; we are beings made for communion.And this, I think, explains why Christmas persists in haunting us. If God is indeed our Maker, then it follows that He understands our design better than we do. We are not mass-produced articles stamped out by chance, but carefully imagined persons. Long before we learned our own names, we were known. Long before we could reach for love, we were made for it.One sees this truth most clearly, I suspect, at the end of life rather than at the height of it. When all the usual distractions are stripped away, the illusions lose their shine. No one, standing at death's door, laments the possessions left unpurchased or the luxuries never acquired. Such things suddenly reveal themselves as what they always were—props, not pillars. What remains is love: the people we have given ourselves to, the people we have failed, and the question of whether we have ever truly responded to the Love that stands behind them all.Here, then, is where Christianity makes its most audacious claim. It does not say merely that love matters, but that Love itself has entered the story. The Word by whom all things were made does not remain at a safe and reverent distance. He becomes a child. The Author steps onto the stage, not as a commanding hero, but as a helpless infant. The Light enters the darkness so quietly that it can be ignored and yet so decisively, that it cannot be extinguished.This is why Christmas continues to unsettle us. It suggests that the longing we feel, the ache that no gift can quite satisfy, is not a mistake. It is a signpost. The Word became flesh and lived among us, and in doing so, He dignified our hunger for love by answering it—not with an argument, but with Himself. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

God became poor so that we might become rich. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In this episode of the InKredible Kids Podcast, you're going to meet two InKredible kids, Shira and Noah, who both live with diabetes — and you'll see how the same challenge can look completely different for different people.You'll hear Shira explain what diabetes actually means in a calm, kid-friendly way. She talks about pumps, beeps, carbs, school, camp, and learning how to manage something big — without letting it define who she is.Then you'll meet Noah, who brings you right into his world of sports, recess, and real-life moments where diabetes shows up at the most inconvenient times. From getting pulled out of a football game to dealing with beeping devices and juice breaks, Noah shares what it's really like — with honesty, humor, and heart.This episode is not just for kids who have diabetes.This episode is for you if:• you're dealing with any kind of challenge• you want to be a better friend• you're curious about what other kids might be going through• or you need the reminder that you are not your diagnosisAs you listen, you'll learn:• how challenges don't define you• how technology can help — but courage matters too• how asking “Are you okay?” can make a big difference• and how being a good friend doesn't mean fixing — it means showing upShira and Noah show you that you can live a full, fun, meaningful life — even when something hard is part of your story.

Prepare the way of the Lord! --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

"My soul magnifies the Lord!" --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

If Christianity were something we had stitched together out of our own imaginations, I suspect we should have made a far more sensible job of it. We should have arranged a thunderous arrival: God descending like a general at the head of an army, the world brought to heel by sheer magnificence. But that, of course, is precisely why the story has the ring of truth. No one invents a God who chooses to enter His own universe not at the top of the staircase, but at the very bottom.For consider what is being claimed. The One by whom all things were made – whose voice set the stars burning and the galaxies spinning – comes among His creatures unable to speak a word or steady His own limbs. The hand that holds the oceans in their place must first be held. The omnipotent becomes, in the most literal sense, dependent. If this does not disturb our neat ideas of power, then we have not yet begun to understand it.At Christmas, all our ordinary measurements are quietly overturned. We habitually equate power with loudness, greatness with height, importance with the ability to command. God, however, chooses another grammar altogether. He does not shout; He whispers. He does not overwhelm; He invites. The Incarnation tells us that real strength is not diminished by humility, and that true majesty is perfectly at home in low places.We are tempted to treat the manger as a pleasant religious decoration, something to be admired and then passed by. But if we linger, it becomes a challenge rather than a comfort. God did not merely become a man; He became a baby. In doing so, He claimed every stage of human life as His own, from our first breath to our last. There is no corner of our experience, however small or humiliating, that He has not entered and redeemed.And here the blow falls squarely on our pride. The manger tells us, without rancor and without compromise, that the world is not saved by human cleverness or moral effort. Salvation comes not by our ascent to God, but by God's descent to us. We do not scramble our way into heaven; heaven comes quietly to earth. Grace is not a wage to be earned but a gift to be received, as simply as a child is received into waiting arms.Christmas, then, is not a festival of human achievement but of divine generosity. It is the moment when Eternity puts on the clothes of time and asks, not for admiration, but for trust. God does not bully us into belief; He makes Himself small enough to be loved. The Infinite becomes an infant so that even the smallest and weakest among us might dare to come to Him. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

To ponder, to be bored in thought, offers a tremendous window into the depths of reality. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The fulfillment of prophecy is not merely a proof offered to reason, but an invitation to faith—calling the human heart to recognize that God truly enters history and walks with his people. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Today, the words of our Lord confront and unsettle us. He declares that “tax collectors and prostitutes” go before us. Why is this so? Because they possess a quality that every saint instinctively understands. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

When John the Baptist sends his disciples to Jesus with that piercing question, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”, we must not too quickly suppose that John had lost his faith. Far more often, doubt is not the absence of belief but the collision of belief with unexpected reality. Even the greatest saints may stand bewildered before the mystery of God's methods.Here is Jesus healing the blind and lifting the poor, hardly the thunderous overthrow of evil John may have expected. The prison cell in which John waited could not have made the contrast less stark. He had preached a roaring lion; Jesus seemed more like a quiet lamb. And so the messenger goes to the Messiah with the cry that every disciple must eventually utter: “Explain Yourself.”Jesus answers not by argument but by evidence. The blind see; the lame walk; the dead rise. That is to say, “Look at what is happening. The Kingdom is already breaking in, though not in the way you imagined.” God's power often arrives not as a mighty earthquake but as a seed, small enough to be ignored by the proud and yet strong enough to split the stones beneath it.Jesus refuses to conform to our ideas of what God should do. We want a Savior who fits our expectations; He gives us a Savior who fits what we truly need, even when we do not realize it. In praising John, Jesus reminds us that greatness in the Kingdom is measured not by one's spiritual résumé but by one's nearness to the Light. John stood at dawn, pointing to the coming Sun; we stand at mid-morning, bathed in its warmth. The smallest soul who trusts Christ on this side of the Resurrection possesses a gift even John longed to see with his own eyes. What then shall we learn from the imprisoned prophet and the unconventional Messiah?Perhaps this: God may not behave as you expect, but He will always be better than you expect. His answers may not thunder, but they heal. His Kingdom may not arrive with spectacle, but it transforms everything it touches. For such a Savior does not simply rule the world; He remakes the human heart. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

My friends, if only we could grasp this staggering truth: God does not love you as one among many, but as though you were the only soul He ever fashioned. His gaze is not a broad beam cast over humanity; it is a narrow and radiant shaft aimed straight at your heart. The One who carved the stars has considered every sorrow you carry and every hope you scarcely dare to utter, and He loves you not in spite of these things but through them, with a tenderness fierce enough to pursue you into any darkness and a joy eager to welcome you home. When this truth is allowed to enter the secret chambers of the soul, it becomes impossible to believe you are forgotten; for the God who holds the universe in His palm has never once let go of you. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

We are far more valuable than we imagine ourselves to be; we are sons and daughters of the very Father whom Christ called His own. If we could see ourselves as Heaven sees us, we would walk with a courage that would unsettle every shadow in the world. And perhaps that is why the devil strains so fiercely to cloud our identity. For if he can lure us into forgetting whose children we are, he need not chain us; our own confusion will do the work for him. But the moment we remember, even faintly, that we belong to the Almighty, the darkness trembles, for it knows he is losing his grip. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Sooner or later every one of us reaches a moment when we realize we are lost. Perhaps someone here today feels that very thing – an inner drifting, a sense that spiritually or morally we've wandered from the path. Life hasn't unfolded the way we expected. The days begin to blur into one another, wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. Somewhere in that routine we ask, Where is my life going?Dante, the Medieval Italian poet, put it powerfully when he wrote, “Midway on the journey of our life, I found myself alone and lost in a dark wood, having wandered from the straight path.” Many of us know exactly what that dark wood feels like.But hear the good news: Jesus Christ comes precisely for those who are lost. Christianity is not a reward for the strong; it is a lifeline for the weary. It is not a trophy for the disciplined; it is hope for those who finally admit they cannot fix themselves. That is why, in this Sunday's Gospel, St. John the Baptist does not whisper but proclaims: “Repent! For the Kingdom of God is at hand.”To repent is to say, “Lord, I have lost my way, and I need You to lead me home.” Unless we acknowledge that, we will never leave the dark wood. If we pretend we have everything together, we will never reach for the hand of the Savior stretched out toward us. And if we do not reach for Him, we will never know Jesus Christ as the One who rescues.Some say the Catholic Church asks too much – too many rules, too many expectations: confess your sins, fast during Lent, give back to God a percentage of your income, honor the Sabbath by attending Mass each Sunday. And yes, the Church asks much. But she asks much because she loves much. She has learned, through two thousand years of saints and sinners, that holiness requires real commitment. There is no such thing as cheap grace. As Scripture tells us, “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” (Cf. Leviticus 19:2) When John the Baptist saw the Pharisees and Sadducees, religious men with impressive knowledge, he rebuked them sharply: “You brood of vipers!” Why? Because they knew the law but lacked the heart. They understood Scripture, but their lives bore no fruit. Knowledge without surrender had left them unchanged. And so John cried out, “Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance!”As we walk through this season of Advent, let each candle we light be a small but steady call out of the dark wood and into the marvelous light of Christ. He is coming, not to condemn us for being lost, but to lead us out if only we will let Him.So, do not imitate the Pharisees and Sadducees who believed they needed no Savior. Instead, lift your hands in surrender. Admit your need. Welcome Christ into the places where you feel most lost. Let Him take the lead, guide your steps, and show you once more the path home. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

There was something wonderfully disarming about the way the sick came to Jesus -- no pretense, no polished virtue, only the quiet confession of need. And in that humble approach, His healing power shone brightest. For Christ never treated brokenness as a barrier but as a doorway through which His mercy might enter. He met trembling hands with compassion, fearful hearts with courage, and wounded lives with the peculiar grace that makes all things new. It is still so today: those who come to Him limping often rise again walking in hope. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The following homily was delivered at a recent community wedding in which five couples, originally civilly married, had their marriages convalidated in the Catholic Church. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Gratitude is the posture that opens the Christian heart to God's grace. When we choose to be thankful, especially in ordinary moments or difficult seasons, we acknowledge that every good thing in our lives is a gift from the Father's hand. Thanksgiving reorients our vision: instead of dwelling on what we lack, we remember the One who provides, sustains, and loves us without measure. A thankful heart becomes a fertile place where joy can grow, humility can flourish, and trust in God deepens. In giving thanks, we do not simply list our blessings, we draw nearer to the Giver Himself. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the spirit of George Washington's Thanksgiving Proclamation, giving thanks to God reminds us that gratitude is not only a personal virtue but a foundation for national character. Washington recognized that the blessings of peace, liberty, and opportunity were not earned by human effort alone, but were gifts worthy of humble acknowledgment. Following his example, we pause to express our thanks to God, both for the visible blessings that shape our daily lives and for the unseen guidance that sustains us through challenges. In doing so, we honor a tradition that calls us to humility, reflection, and renewed commitment to the greater good. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

It is 1927, and life in Mexico is changing with alarming speed. A nation that once found its strength and identity in faith is now facing a wave of hostility. The government has adopted a harsh, openly anti-Catholic stance, determined to uproot the very beliefs that shaped the hearts of the people. At that time, more than 90% of Mexicans saw the Catholic faith as the center of their lives. It was woven into every part of their story. Children were baptized in the Church, educated in its schools, married within its walls, cared for in its hospitals, and guided by its priests at the hour of death. For nearly five centuries, to be Mexican and to be Catholic were inseparable truths.But the government under President Plutarco Elías Calles set out to sever that connection by any means necessary. He seemed to ask himself, “How can I destroy the faith of an entire nation?” And under his leadership, one of the most brutal persecutions of the Church began. Foreign missionary priests were expelled. Catholic schools were shut down. Churches were padlocked, making the celebration of Mass illegal. Priests and nuns were forbidden to wear their habits or cassocks in public—doing so meant immediate arrest.Yet, despite the fear and danger, the faithful refused to bow. Their courage grew stronger in the face of oppression. Among them was a priest named Fr. Miguel Pro, a man whose bravery became a beacon of hope. Defying every government order, he continued to minister in secret. He baptized the newborn, prepared couples for marriage, taught the faith, and offered the sacraments whenever and wherever he could. Though police searched for him relentlessly, he continued his mission with joy and determination until at last he was captured.Fr. Miguel would be sentenced to die by firing squad. Before the soldiers aimed their rifles at the priest they asked if he had any final words. He raised his arms in the shape of a cross and cried out with unwavering courage: “LONG LIVE CHRIST THE KING!”The government printed the image of execution on the front pages of newspapers across the country, hoping to fill Catholics with fear. Instead, it filled them with strength. His final cry ignited a fire of faith that oppression could not extinguish.And so today, we remember a truth that Fr. Miguel's life and death proclaim clearly: only Christ truly satisfies the human heart. The joy and peace we long for will never be found in the false promises of our age. They cannot be found in money, possessions, status, or comfort. These things fade, disappoint, and leave us wanting more. But Christ never fails.Christ never fades. Christ alone is our peace. Christ alone is our joy. All other claimants to our hearts eventually fall silent. Only Jesus endures.VIVA CRISTO REY! --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

In the Book of Maccabees, the mother who watched her seven sons die rather than betray their faith stands as one of Scripture's most radiant examples of courage. In the face of unimaginable loss, she refused to surrender to fear or despair. Her strength did not come from the hope of earthly rescue, but from her unwavering trust that God would honor their sacrifice with eternal life. She spoke not with bitterness, but with a fierce, holy love that lifted her sons' eyes beyond the suffering of the moment to the glory prepared for them. Her bravery reminds us that true courage is born when the heart clings to what is eternal—when love for God becomes stronger than even the deepest grief. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

There comes a moment in every believer's life when inherited faith will no longer suffice. The gentle warmth of family tradition, the comfort of familiar hymns, the rhythm of ritual—all these are good and precious things. Yet when the cold wind of opposition blows, when faith is mocked or maligned, or when sorrow cuts deep into the soul, such belief will crumble like a house built on sand. It is not enough to say, “I am Catholic because my parents were.” We must know why we are Catholic, and we must know it in the deep marrow of our being. To know why is to have met the Person behind the practice. Christianity is not a philosophy that one may simply agree with; it is an encounter with the living God. The Catholic faith, at its heart, is not a set of customs, nor even a system of thought, but the life of Christ extended through His Church across time and space. If you have not yet found Christ at the center of your Catholicism, then your faith has not yet reached its depth. You have the shell, but not yet the pearl.When persecution comes—and it always does, in one form or another—it strips away pretense. The comfortable explanations falter. To be Catholic because one enjoys the incense, the music, or the solemnity of liturgy is as fragile as being married because one enjoys the wedding reception. There will come a day when the joy of ceremony gives way to the labor of love, and only love will endure. So too, only love for Christ will hold us fast when, not if, the world turns against us.To say, “I am Catholic because I believe it is true,” is the beginning of strength. But even that belief must not rest on the shifting sands of emotion or cultural approval. It must be rooted in the conviction that truth Himself has revealed it. That Christ, who said “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” continues to speak through His Church. That the sacraments are not symbols only, but encounters with the divine. That the Eucharist is not bread and wine, but God-with-us, under humble forms.If you know this, if you know Him, then no flame of persecution can consume your faith. For you will not merely cling to a doctrine; you will cling to a Person. You will not merely defend a tradition; you will defend your Beloved.So ask yourself, and ask sincerely: Why am I Catholic? Do not be content until your answer is alive with love, conviction, and wonder. For the day will come when you must answer not to the world, but to your own heart. And may your heart, knowing Whom it has believed, answer boldly: I am Catholic because it is true, because it is beautiful, and because through it I have found Christ Himself. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Every baptized Christian, however small or obscure, bears a dignity that no earthly monument can rival. The Dedication of the Basilica of St. John Lateran that we celebrate today reminds us that the Church is not first of marble or of gold, but of souls. The colossal statues of the twelve apostles that line its nave are not merely ornaments of stone, but symbols of the living reality upon which Christ builds His dwelling. Those massive figures, carved by human hands, point to a greater mystery: that the same Christ who made Peter a foundation and John a witness has made of every believer a living stone in His eternal temple.It is a humbling and exalting thought that we, so frail and often faithless, are chosen to bear the weight of glory. The Church's beauty does not depend upon the grandeur of her buildings but upon the grace alive in her members. Even the smallest Christian, hidden in prayer or quiet service, adds a line to the architecture of heaven. The apostles stand in their marble stillness as reminders that our own lives are being hewn and fitted into a structure far greater than any basilica.Thus, as we look upon the Lateran's soaring arches and its steadfast saints of stone, let us remember that the true cathedral is being built not in Rome alone but in every human heart that has been washed in the waters of baptism. Each of us, by grace, is part of that living edifice, one in which the Builder Himself has chosen to dwell.And perhaps this is the deepest wonder of all: that the Master Builder works not with flawless material, but with what is cracked and common. The apostles themselves were not marble when He called them, they were fishermen, tax collectors, doubters, and sinners. Yet through the fire of His love, they were made steadfast, and their weakness became strength. So too with us: our imperfections, offered to Christ, become the very texture through which His light shines. In every heart that yields to grace, the living stone is shaped a little nearer to its final beauty. The Church grows not by triumph or grandeur alone, but by the quiet chiseling of repentance, forgiveness, and charity until, at last, the whole structure resounds with one voice, a temple radiant with the presence of the living God. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

They came to Him because, at last, they had found someone who saw them as more than the sum of their failures. The world had written its verdict on their lives—unclean, unworthy, beyond redemption—but Jesus looked past the grime and saw the image of God still glimmering beneath. His holiness did not repel them, as cold virtue might; it drew them, as fire draws the freezing. In His presence, they felt the staggering truth that they were loved not because they were good, but so that they might become good. And that, I think, is why they gathered close: because in Him, mercy was not a theory, but a face. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

This Advent, we are presented with a most extraordinary grace. Our own parish will host a first-class relic — that is, an actual fragment of the body — of the Church's newest saint, Carlo Acutis, this coming Saturday, November 22nd, from 3:00 to 4:30 p.m. Only weeks ago, in the grandeur of St. Peter's Basilica, before tens of thousands gathered in solemn joy, Pope Leo XIV declared this young fifteen-year-old, a bright spirit of the digital age, to be among the company of the saints. And now, through the kindness of his own mother, this sacred relic has been entrusted to us here in Vacaville. A touch of sanctity will be arriving here, in our very own town.To modern ears, the veneration of relics may sound curious, even unsettling. It's one of those ancient customs that is at the same time bizarre, unique, and wildly weird about the Catholic faith. Yet the practice reaches back to the dawn of Christianity, when believers gathered at the tombs of martyrs not to worship bones, but to draw near to the holiness that God had kindled in them. They understood that grace leaves its mark; the human body, once filled with the Spirit, is not discarded like a shell but honored as a vessel that once bore divine fire. To venerate the saints, then, is not to cling to superstition, but to glimpse, through them, what God intends for us all: that our very flesh might become radiant with His glory.The first Christians knew well that the saints were men and women of dust, as frail and fallible as themselves. Yet in them they saw what grace could do. The martyrs in the amphitheatre, singing even as the beasts approached, were not displaying their own courage — they were displaying Christ's triumph in human weakness. The ascetics in the desert, fasting and praying in solitude, were not exalting human will, but the will surrendered utterly to God. To venerate such lives was not to worship them, but to honor the Artist whose skill could carve holiness out of ordinary stone.If we are wise, we will learn from this ancient instinct. For the Christian life is not meant to be a solitary ascent, a lone pilgrim trudging toward a distant summit. It is rather a great procession of souls, each carrying the light a little farther, each learning from the glow of the one before. When we remember the saints, we are reminded that sanctity is not beyond us. We are meant, in some measure, to become like them.In truth, the saints are not competitors with Christ but His masterpieces. To honor them is to praise the grace that made them what they are. We can rejoice that the same grace that made holy is offered to us, here and now. This November 22nd, we can honor one of our brothers who made it home to Heaven, right here in Vacaville. I invite all of you to come for this special opportunity! --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Imagine all the saints and angels stand about us as a great cloud of witnesses, not as distant spectators, but as dear friends leaning over the railings of Heaven, their faces alight with joy. They cheer us on. Every step we take toward the light sends ripples of gladness through that radiant company. To them, our smallest victories over despair and sin are no trifles; they are echoes of the same triumph that shook the world when Christ rose from the tomb. And so they beckon us onward, ever upward, until faith becomes sight and we, too, join the chorus of eternal praise. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Faith, like the body, is strengthened by strain. Ease has never made a saint, nor comfort a conqueror. When St. Paul pressed on through shipwreck, hunger, and chains, he was not merely enduring hardship, he was training his soul to trust a strength not his own. There is something deeply spiritual in doing what is physically hard: each drop of sweat whispers that the flesh is weak, and yet the spirit may still triumph. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Last Saturday, our parish retreat was an astounding success! It was a day that will long be remembered, not merely for the crowd it drew, but for the spirit that filled the air. Nearly two hundred and fifty souls came together, united by joy and fellowship, as we launched our new parish Mission Statement: “To be faithful like Mary.”It was not an ordinary hunger that stirred among us. It was a deeper kind; it was the hunger of hearts longing to know the truth that nourishes the soul. We desired to understand why the Blessed Virgin, whose name adorns our parish walls and whose fiat still echoes through the centuries, holds such a luminous place in the life of the Church.Together we journeyed back into the early dawn of Christianity, walking beside the voices of our ancestors in the faith, the saints and scholars who bore the torch of truth when the world was just starting to hear the Good News of the Gospel. We listened to St. Ignatius of Antioch, who once knew St. Peter himself—a single heartbeat away from the words of Christ. And in that closeness, that living chain of witness, we discovered what the earliest Christians knew beyond doubt: that the Church was, from the very beginning, deeply and thoroughly Catholic.During the time of questions, one of our newest parishioners, a convert from Protestantism, raised a tender yet courageous question. “Why,” she asked, “do so many non-Catholic Christians accuse us of worshiping Mary? When we pray the rosary or sing to her, they say we take away from Jesus.”Our speaker, Joshua Charles, himself a convert and a man whose intellect burns with zeal for truth, answered with great clarity. He explained that since the 16th century, much of Protestantism has turned away from the Holy Mass as a true sacrifice. To them, it became a mere symbol, a sacred reenactment but not the very reality of Calvary made present again.Here lies the key to so much misunderstanding. For Catholics, the highest form of worship is sacrifice—the self-offering of Jesus Christ to the Father upon the altar. It is in this divine act that all our praises, prayers, and devotions find their meaning and their end. But if one no longer sees worship as sacrifice, then song and prayer become the summit. Anything else, like love for Mary, can seem a rival to Christ rather than a reflection of Him.Yet Mary's glory is no rival to His. She magnifies the Lord. Her faithfulness is the clear mirror that catches the sunlight of her Son. To be faithful like Mary is to let that same light pass through us, so that others, too, might see Christ shining more clearly in the world.And so, our retreat was more than an event; it was a quiet awakening—a rediscovery of what it means to be Catholic, to be faithful, to be, like Mary, utterly surrendered to the will of God. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

The teachings of Jesus, though rooted in love and truth, can sometimes divide families because they call each person to choose between the comfort of the familiar and the courage of faith. When one member decides to follow Christ wholeheartedly, it can challenge the values, traditions, or beliefs of others, creating tension where harmony once seemed certain. Yet even in this division, there is purpose; Jesus reminds us that true peace is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of conviction. Through faithfulness to His word, hearts can be transformed, and what begins in division can ultimately lead to a deeper, eternal unity grounded in truth and grace. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

It is a strange and splendid truth that the mightiest men are those who kneel most often. Pope John Paul II, like a knight of old, stood firm in the arena of a crumbling world not by the strength of sword or scepter, but by the silent, ceaseless watch of prayer. In an age addicted to speed and spectacle, he dared to believe that stillness before God was a greater act than any speech before men. His vigilance was not the fretful anxiety of the world, but the blazing calm of one who knew that the universe turns upon the hinge of a whisper to heaven. To pray without ceasing is to love without limit—and in this, the holy Pope taught us the true posture of revolution. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Our Lord bids us to be vigilant, not out of fear, but because the world is not our true home. To ‘gird your loins' is no idle metaphor; it is the act of a soldier who knows the battle is real though unseen, the traveller who knows the road is long but worth every step. Christ does not ask us to be anxious, but awake. The drowsiness of comfort, the slow poison of distraction these are the true dangers. We are called to live with lamps lit and hearts ready, not because the night is long, but because the dawn is certain. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

When our Lord posed the haunting question, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?”, He did not pose it as a riddle, nor merely as prophecy, but as a mirror held before our hearts. It is not faith in the abstract He seeks, as if counting theological knowledge or measuring church attendance, but the kind of faith that breathes, wrestles, and walks with God when the world goes dim.It is easy enough, is it not, to believe in the light when all is bright? A child believes the sun will rise, not because he's studied astronomy, but because it always has. But the Christian faith is tested not by the sunrise but by the silence of midnight. Will we still believe when the world mocks, when prayers go unanswered, when suffering strikes without explanation?Faith is not merely assent to a creed. Fallen angels do that, and tremble. No, the faith Christ longs to find is that defiant trust—a love-soaked loyalty—that looks full in the face of suffering and still whispers, “Jesus, I trust in you.” It is the faith of Abraham climbing Mount Moriah, of Daniel kneeling before open windows, of the Virgin Mary keeping all these things in her heart.We must not mistake familiarity for faith. There are many who have grown up going to Mass each Sunday whose hearts remain untouched by the burning presence of God.So, the question returns, echoing across centuries: Will He find faith?Let us not imagine that He is asking whether we have tidy answers or triumphant ministries. He is asking whether He will find hearts—wounded perhaps, weary certainly—but still turned toward Him. Will He find men and women who have not bowed to the golden idols of ease and spectacle, who have not traded the scandal of the cross for the applause of the world?If He finds even a mustard seed of such faith, it will be enough. For faith, in the end, is not the achievement of the strong but the desperate clinging of the weak to the One who is strong. And perhaps it is precisely in our clinging, trembling and uncertain though it may be, that Christ sees the echo of His own steadfastness in the Garden of Gethsemane. Yes, He asked the question. But it is we who must answer it with our lives. And when He comes, oh glorious terror, oh splendid hope, may He find us not with explanations, but with open hands, lifted eyes, and hearts still burning. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

St. Ignatius of Antioch, facing martyrdom with unwavering courage, expressed a profound desire to be "ground by the teeth of wild beasts, that I may be found the pure bread of Christ." In this powerful image, he saw suffering not as defeat, but as a sacred offering—his very life becoming a Eucharistic sacrifice. For Ignatius, to die for Christ was not tragedy, but triumph. It was a way to be fully united with the One he loved. His words inspire us to embrace our own trials with faith, knowing that even in pain, we can be transformed into something holy, something that nourishes others with love and purpose. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

There is a scene in the Gospel according to Saint Luke, brief in its telling but vast in its implication, that speaks volumes about the human heart. Ten lepers cry out to Christ from a distance, exiled by their affliction, their humanity diminished in the eyes of the world. With a word, He sends them to the priests. As they go, they are healed. But only one returns! One out of ten. And even more shocking, it's a Samaritan no less who falls at His feet in thanksgiving. And Jesus asks, with divine ache: "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine?" (Luke 17:17).Ten were healed; one was grateful. This is no small parable in passing. It is a mirror. We are all, in some manner, lepers—ailing in soul or circumstance, calling out to God in the wilderness. And He, in mercy, hears us. He grants healing, restoration, daily bread, breath itself. But how often do we return to give thanks?The modern soul, so puffed with knowledge, tends to treat blessings as entitlements. Health is expected until lost. Beauty, until faded. Time, until it is spent. We do not thank the sun for rising; we demand it. But the thankful man, the one like the Samaritan, sees all with fresh eyes. He understands that he is not owed the sunrise, nor the healing, nor the gift of grace itself. All is gift. All is mercy.The ungrateful man lives in illusion, thinking himself self-made, imagining a world where God is irrelevant. But the grateful man sees clearly. He sees the Giver behind the gift.In the end, gratitude is not for God's benefit, as though He needed our thanks. It is for ours. The nine were healed in body, yes—but the one who returned was healed in soul. Christ says to him, “Your faith has saved you." The Greek word here—sozo—can mean saved, made whole. The returning leper received more than the others because he gave more: he gave thanks.Let us then cultivate the holy habit of gratitude, not as a mere politeness but as worship. Let us rise each day and say, “Thank You,” for the breath in our lungs, the light in our eyes, the cross that bore our salvation. For in giving thanks, we do not flatter God; we draw near to Him. We remember who we are, and more importantly, whose we are.And perhaps, in the end, gratitude is the seed of every other virtue. For the man who is truly thankful will not be proud, nor greedy, nor bitter. He will walk humbly, love deeply, and live wisely.May we be the one who returns. In fact, by coming to Sunday Mass today, you are returning back to the God who gives us everything. You are the Samaritan. That is why the “Eucharist”, the greatest gift of all because it is Jesus Christ himself, comes from the Greek word, “thanksgiving”. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Indeed, in the quiet home of Bethany, amidst the clatter of dishes and the urgency of preparation, Mary did something both simple and profound—she sat at the feet of Christ. While Martha busied herself with many good things, Mary chose the better thing, the one needful thing. It is a subtle yet eternal truth: the soul's deepest nourishment is not found in the rush of service, but in the stillness of communion. To sit quietly and listen to the Word Himself is not idleness, but the highest act of love. In a world that applauds motion and noise, Mary reminds us that peace is found not in doing for Jesus, but in being with Him. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

It is a striking fact, though often overlooked, that from the earliest days of the Church, the Virgin Mary was not merely honoured as the Mother of our Lord, but held up as the model of Christian faith itself.This wasn't because early Christians confused her with Christ, or wished to place her above Him. Rather, they saw in her something the modern world too often misses: a life fully and freely surrendered to God. Before she carried Christ in her womb, she had already welcomed Him in her heart.When the angel Gabriel came to her, he did not offer a polite suggestion. He declared a divine reality: “You will conceive and bear a son.” No theological debate, no careful exposition, only a moment of decision. And Mary's response—“Be it unto me according to thy word”—was more than agreement. It was the first, purest act of discipleship in all of Christian history. From that moment, the Church understood something profound: Mary is not the exception to the Christian life; she is its pattern.Long before St. Peter dropped his nets or St. Paul fell from his horse, Mary had already said yes to God. She believed when belief came at a cost. She trusted when she did not understand. She obeyed when the path was unclear. And when all others had fled the cross, she remained.This is why the earliest Christians honoured her—not as a goddess, not as a distant symbol, but as the first and truest disciple. They called her Theotokos, “God-bearer,” not to exalt her above Christ, but to defend the truth of the Incarnation: that God truly became man, and did so through the willing obedience of a human being.Mary shows us what it looks like when humanity is fully open to God. Not proud. Not self-sufficient. Not scrambling to control. But open. Receptive. Willing. We are not called to be her, but we are called to follow her. And most of us, it must be said, are not likely to become apostles, prophets, or martyrs. But we are all called to do what she did: to listen for the voice of God—and to respond, not with delay or demands, but with faith.If the Fall began with Eve's “no,” then redemption begins with Mary's “yes.” In that yes, history turned, Heaven touched Earth, and the Word became flesh. She did not work miracles. She did not preach sermons. She simply gave herself to God—and in doing so, gave the world its Saviour. Her faith was quiet, but unshakable. Hidden, but world-changing. And if we have eyes to see it, her life offers us not a relic to revere, but a path to walk. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

What if angels weren't just watching over us… but walking among us? In this awe-inspiring, deeply human, and surprisingly hilarious episode of The Skeptic Metaphysicians, we're joined by Rachel Corpus, a self-identified angel in human form. Rachel isn't just tuning in to the higher realms, she's been living them since birth. With a childhood filled with spirit sightings, a series of powerful near-death experiences, and daily downloads from the angelic and extraterrestrial realms, Rachel brings forward messages that are both expansive and immediately actionable. We explore the layers of our holographic universe, what it really means to be a lightbeing incarnate, and how you can start connecting with God or Source, even if you're not sure it's real. If you've ever questioned whether you're more than just your body, wondered about your soul's origins, or felt like you don't quite belong on this planet… this conversation is your divine wake-up call. And don't worry, Rachel doesn't just bring light codes and galactic truths. She brings the laughs, too.In this episode, you'll discover:The true nature of angels and how they can incarnate into human form (hint: they're not just floating in the clouds)How layers of reality in a holographic universe may explain déjà vu, dreams, and deep spiritual knowingThe difference between high-vibrational extraterrestrials and angelic beings, and why they're working together nowHow to tell if you might be an incarnate helper (angel, ET, or divine soul)What Rachel learned during her near-death experiences, and why she chose to come backHow to connect with God/Source energy, even if you doubt it existsWhat it's like to channel beings from the multiverse, including ascended masters and star racesWhy humor is a high-frequency bridge between the angelic and human realmsTips to activate your own spiritual gifts and remember your divine missionA grounded approach to understanding parallel realities and the quantum fieldAction Steps from This Episode ✅ Reflect on moments in your life where you felt like “more” was going on than meets the eye.✅ Meditate or journal on the idea: “What if I'm here on assignment?”✅ Pay attention to recurring signs, nudges, and synchronicities...they may be multidimensional messages.✅ Begin speaking to the Divine in your own words, even if you're unsure who's listening...intention is the antenna.✅ Explore modalities like past life regression to remember your soul's deeper story.

There is a peculiar thing about belief. We often imagine it must be lit with the fire of visions, thunderous voices, and the trembling of mountains. We tend to seek the spectacular, the sensational. Yet heaven, if I may be so bold, is rather quieter than we imagine.Now, there once was a mother, a girl, really, whose name the angels knew long before the world did: Mary. Her story is told with such tenderness and simplicity that we hardly notice the grandeur hidden within it. When the angel came to her, she was not in a temple nor upon a mountaintop, but in the quiet of her home. No crowd stood by to marvel; no thunder clapped. And yet, she believed.Not because she saw a host of miracles. Not because she walked on water or watched water turn to wine. She believed long before those things. Before her Son had spoken a single parable or stilled a single storm. She believed while He was still small and helpless in her arms.There is a story—one our Lord Himself told—of a rich man and a beggar named Lazarus. The rich man, finding himself in torment after death, pleads for Abraham to send someone—anyone!—from the dead to warn his brothers. “If only they see someone rise from the dead,” he says, “then surely they will believe.”But Abraham replies, “If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” And is this not the very world we live in now? The tomb is empty, and yet men still scoff. The stone was rolled away, and yet hearts remain sealed. Christ has risen, and still many say, “Show us a sign!”But Mary did not ask for a sign. She did not demand proof. She treasured things in her heart long before they were proven. Her belief was not built on spectacle, but on surrender. She did not need her Son to rise from the dead to know who He was. She knew in the swaddling clothes what others could not see even after the Resurrection. This is the paradox of faith: those who insist upon signs may never see them, and those who see without insisting are often the ones who find them.So then, you who wait for God to tear open the sky—consider Mary. The quiet girl of Nazareth. She who said yes before the miracles. She who knelt beneath the cross cradling the lifeless tortured corpse of her beloved boy, without understanding it. She believed, not because she saw, but because she knew. And that kind of knowing—quiet, patient, and undemanding—is to be faithful like Mary. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

When one reads the ancient words of Isaiah, particularly the thirty-fifth chapter, one finds not merely poetry, but promise: "Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped..." What are these but signposts, pointing beyond themselves to a reality yet to come? And when Christ walked among us — healing the blind, the lame, the deaf — He did not merely perform wonders; He fulfilled prophecy, wove the threads of Israel's hope into the fabric of His own person. These miracles were not parlor tricks, but the very evidence that the Kingdom of God had drawn near, that joy was beginning to bloom in the wilderness. In Jesus, Isaiah's vision stood upright and walked among us. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

“No servant can serve two masters.” It is not merely a command—it is a diagnosis. Christ is not giving us a rule to follow; He is telling us something about the way we are made. The human heart, like a compass, cannot point in two directions at once. Try to serve both God and “mammon” (worldly power, riches, fancy cars and houses, think of the things drug cartels worship), and you will soon discover that your soul is being torn down the middle because each master wants your entire self, and neither will settle for a half-love.Nowhere do we see this truth more luminously lived than in the life of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She served one Master, and one only. From her hidden girlhood in Nazareth to the foot of the Cross, her heart beat for the will of God and none other. The world offered her nothing, no riches, no comfort, no acclaim. Yet she had the peace that only comes to those who are undivided.Mammon – by which Christ means not only wealth, but the whole glittering world-system of self-interest, pride, possession, and ease – was never her god. She had nothing of it, and wanted nothing from it. When the angel appeared to her announcing the mystery of the Incarnation of Jesus in her womb, she did not ask, “What do I gain?” She asked only how it would be done. Her question was not the hesitation of doubt, but the readiness of one who had long ago ceased to serve herself.Had she served mammon, she might have clung to comfort and reputation, refused the shame of bearing a child outside of wedlock, or demanded safety for her Son. But she served God. And so she said yes to danger, yes to misunderstanding, yes to a sword that would pierce her heart.The world has a thousand false gods, and Mammon is their king. But Mary bowed to only One—and she did so without fanfare, in silence, and in surrender. She was not merely poor in possessions; she was poor in spirit. And this is the great irony: by giving herself entirely to God, she received more than Mammon could ever offer. Not silver or gold, but grace. Not status, but the joy of bearing Christ into the world.You and I are always tempted to serve two masters. But Mary shows us another way; the wholeness of a heart given entirely to one Master is simply better. She reminds us that to choose God over Mammon is not merely noble – it is sane. For Mammon takes everything and gives nothing back. But God takes what we offer and fills it with meaning, with peace, and with the light of eternal things.In the end, the question is not whether you will serve. You will serve someone. The only question is whom—and whether, like the Virgin, your heart is free enough to say: “Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord.” My heart belongs to God alone. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

She came not with words, but with tears — the ancient language of the broken heart. In her silence, she spoke a thousand repentances; in her weeping, a thousand thanksgivings. It was not the perfume that anointed Christ, but the love that poured itself out with reckless abandon, unashamed and unmeasured. The world might call her foolish, but Heaven called her beloved. For in her act, we see that love is not cautious — it kneels, it weeps, it clings to mercy. And the One who knew the weight of every sin spoke peace to her soul, not because she was worthy, but because she believed He was. --- Help Spread the Good News --- Father Brian's homilies are shared freely thanks to generous listeners like you. If his words have blessed you, consider supporting this volunteer effort. Every gift helps us continue recording and sharing the hope of Jesus—one homily at a time. Give Here: https://frbriansoliven.org/give

Steven Sawalich's latest work, Case for Kindness, is an award-winning documentary exploring the transformative impact of kindness on society and emphasizes its critical role in shaping our future. The film has earned over 75 awards worldwide.Sawalich is President & CEO of Articulus Entertainment, combines a passion for humanitarian work with a commitment to capturing emotionally compelling and thought-provoking human experiences on film. Under his leadership, Articulus has consistently delivered commercially successful and critically acclaimed movies, television shows, and original programming to audiences worldwide.His directorial debut was Music Within (2007), which won the Audience Award at the AFI Dallas International Film Festival and was distributed by MGM.In 2015, he launched Operation Change on the Oprah Winfrey Network, a documentary series featuring global changemakers like the Dalai Lama, Bill Clinton, and Elton John. His 2019 film Where the Light Shines followed two Afghan skiers striving for the Olympics and offered a rare hopeful look at Afghanistan.Sawalich has worked with numerous organizations, including Starkey Hearing Foundation, Eastern Congo Initiative, Charlize Theron Africa Outreach Program, Sentebale, X-Prize, THORN, Virgin Unite, Special Olympics, and Clinton Global Initiative.Links:https://caseforkindness.com/https://www.starkey.com/https://www.starkeyhearingfoundation.org/https://www.citizensofsound.com/